WikiNarnia:Special/stories/Runeweaver's Tale
Runeweaver’s Tale: '' ''The Chronicle of the Knight-prince and the Slaying of the Dragon '' The young prince walked through the halls of Cair Paravel, a wise centaur by his side. He had blond hair that fell into his gray eyes, which were solemn with the weight of ruling a kingdom in his father’s stead. He walked with the air of one who had grown up before his time. King Ilian of Narnia had fallen ill, and after a year, had not recovered. His son, Prince Dirian, who had been only fifteen at the time, stepped up and began to govern the kingdom with the help of advisors. He did not claim the title of king, however, because Ilian, in the eyes of the Narnians and Aslan, was still the ruler of Narnia. That had been a year ago. Seventeen-year-old Dirian was king in every sense of the word except holding the title. Though all of Narnia prayed for Ilian’s recovery, the king grew worse as the days progressed. Princesses and noblewomen began to fill Cair Paravel, their intent clear – to marry Dirian, who, they assumed, would be king in a short time. As the prince and the centaur stood gazing at the stormy hues of the raging sea, Dirian turned to the noble centaur and asked, “Do you think I am ready to become king, Runeweaver?” “I will answer your question, Your Highness,” Runeweaver answered, “when you answer it yourself.” Dirian sighed. “I don’t think I am ready,” he said. “I don’t think I will ever be prepared.” “When King Caspian was a prince, Aslan Himself reassured him that because Caspian did not feel prepared, he was ready to take the throne,” Runeweaver said. “I will give you the same advice. If you had been arrogant, and had answered you were indeed ready to rule a large country, I would be worried. But I am not anxious for the future of Narnia, because I know you will make the best decisions possible to lead her.” He sighed. “I will tell you the tale of Prince Falcon; maybe this will explain it better. It is called the Chronicle of the Knight-prince and the Slaying of the Dragon.” And so Runeweaver the centaur began his tale. '' '' ''In the year of the Great Lion 2288, an Archenlandian duke named Relian wanted the throne. King Nain was a wise and just king, but Duke Relian stirred the people and gained a group of followers. The duke arranged for the death of the cupbearer and placed his own, a spy, so he could poison the queen. The queen died of a mysterious illness, leaving behind her grieving husband and three-month-old Prince Falcon. A month later, Nain was persuaded to lead a hunt for a wild dumb boar, and a knight, whose name no one seemed to know, “accidently” dropped his sword directly in the path of the king’s galloping horse. Though the horse tried to stop, it fell on the sword, almost throwing Nain from the saddle. Baron Dornian, a close friend of the king, tried to take the reins, but the king’s horse, in its’ pain and confusion, trampled him to death. The mysterious soldier disappeared, leaving behind his sword. When the court at Anvard heard of the king’s accident, Relian tried to kill the prince to complete the treason. Sir Char, a knight loyal to Nain, killed the duke, took the prince, and fled to save Falcon’s life. Char was pursued by Relian’s forces over the mountains into Narnia, and shot in the back six times by rebel archers. The Archenlandian knight was left for dead, and when he saw a centaur, he begged him to hide the prince and take Falcon back to Archenland when the land south of Narnia was at peace. The centaur agreed, taking the prince, and Char died. The centaur, Thorian, took Falcon deep into the Western Wood. Barely alive, Nain was brought back to Anvard. When a messenger found Char’s body, the king named Baron Dornian’s two-month-old orphaned daughter, Aryelle, as his ward and heir, in honor of Dornian’s memory. Thorian, the centaur who had found Char and Falcon, and his daughter Rianaia defended the prince from those still loyal to the mutinous Relian. The centaurs taught Falcon how to be a king. In 2305, King Nain was dying, and he asked King Caspian of Narnia to travel to Archenland so he could ask him for a favor. Caspian journeyed to Archenland, leaving Trumpkin as regent. Caspian entered the throne room of Nain. The Archenlandian king was weak and pale, and his hair and beard were completely gray. “King Caspian,” Nain said faintly, though he tried to appear strong. “King Nain,” Caspian said. Suddenly, Nain began coughing violently. The king’s valet and Caspian moved forward and helped the old man to his chambers, a crowd of flustered nobles and servants around Nain. Caspian and Aryelle, backed by the anxious crowd, stood by the bed where Nain sat. The Archenlandian, clearing his throat, began to speak. “King Caspian, forgive me,” he said. “Be glad for your youth,” he said with a wane smile. Then he grew serious. “We must return to more serious matters, however.” He raised his voice. “Only Caspian and Aryelle are to hear this. No one is permitted in my chambers. Everyone must leave.” The servants and nobles hurried out. “Caspian, will you marry Aryelle?” The Narnian’s eyes widened slightly with shock, but otherwise he was expressionless. Caspian looked at the equally surprised Aryelle. “Nain,” he began. “I know this is short notice, and you hardly know each other,” Nain said. “Though my people are loyal, someone like Duke Relian might step forward and become Archenland’s dictator. Once I am gone, the Tisroc might conquer Archenland and make this country one of his many provinces. Aryelle would be forced to marry a Tarkaan and never set foot on Archenlandian soil again.” Caspian looked deeply into Aryelle’s eyes, and she gazed back. They both knew what they had to say. “I know I speak for Aryelle when I say this,” Caspian said. “I must refuse. Forgive me.” Nain sat straight up. “By the Lion’s Mane, Caspian!” he said, trying to control his outrage. “You are willingly putting her in the hands of the Calormenes! Think of her future!” “Nain, we both would be miserable. Aryelle would constantly long for her homeland. I would struggle to defend my people and yours, Nain, from the Calormenes, who will surely try to take over Archenland if we marry or not.” “Think of your positions!” Nain thundered. “You are not private people! Caspian, you are a king. Aryelle, you will be queen! Your country goes before your happiness!” “Lord king,” Aryelle cut in, “I must say this. Caspian and I would not be happy if we were forced to marry for politics. I promise you that I refuse to hand Archenland over to Calormene.” “If the Tisroc wants something bad enough he will get it, one way or another! That might involve you marrying the Tisroc or some Calormene. You will wear a veil the rest of your life, never leaving your home. The only people you will see will be servants who are too scared to talk to you and a husband who only visits to get twenty children! Think of Queen Susan of the Golden Age! She narrowly escaped the fate that you seem willing to take, over marrying Caspian!” The Narnian began to speak, but at the mention of Queen Susan, he grew quiet. “With Aslan as my witness I solemnly swear that I will defend Archenland to my dying breath, with or without Caspian or any other as my husband and king. I refuse to marry a Calormene, or anyone else who does not have the good of Archenland in mind.” “Nain,” Caspian said, “if I created a contest for the hand of Aryelle, would you be satisfied? I will personally make sure that whoever wins will be worthy of her and Archenland.” The fight seemed to go out of Nain. “Yes, Caspian,” he said tiredly. “If you will not compromise on this, then, by all means, create a competition.” Caspian sent a proclamation throughout Narnia, Archenland, and Calormen for knights to come to Cair Paravel and, one by one until the deed was accomplished, try to slay a dragoness that guarded the Four Lost Crowns of the Four Kings and Queens of the Golden Age. As the first knight was sent out, amid fanfare and an elaborate sendoff, Aslan appeared. Some dared not to look into His great eyes or gaze at His golden mane, but soon all looked at the Lion. “Only the true king of Archenland can slay the dragon and retrieve the Crowns,” He said, a solemn and sad look in His eyes. The knight did not come back, and the next was sent out, and he also did not return. When Thorian and Rianaia received word of King Caspian’s decree, they sent the seventeen-year-old to Cair Paravel, warning Falcon not to reveal his heritage. He called himself Sir Lerian of Stormness Head, a town in Archenland, and spoke rarely to anyone. The dragoness killed thirty knights, and many were giving up hope of the Four Crowns ever returning to Narnia. Feld, a Narnian horse that wanted more than grazing in his herd’s meadow, agreed to take Falcon to Dragontor in the Northern Mountains. Falcon and Feld climbed the mountain to the lair of the dragon. The few living near Dragontor said that the dragoness had lived on the mountain ever since the Golden Age, and when a brash Narnian murdered her dragonlings, she vowed to avenge her children. When the four kings and queens disappeared, she flew to Cair Paravel and stole the Four Crowns of the Kings and Queens, taking them to her lair. The Narnians tried to retrieve the Crowns, but she killed every one that set foot on Dragontor. Falcon rode Feld to the cave of the dragon. Drawing his sword, he dismounted, and side by side the Archenlandian knight-prince and the warhorse walked to the entrance of the cave. “Ssiassa, terror of the North!” Falcon said, raising his sword. “I have come to retrieve the Four Crowns of the Four Kings and Queens of the Golden Age!” The ancient dragoness emerged from the cave. She had black scales that were almost mirror-like, horns jutting from her head, bone spikes on her back, large talons, and huge wings. “I know what Asssslan ssssaid,” she hissed. “Only the true king of Archenland can kill me. You are the mosssst pathetic excusssse for a king, but you will make a fine meal. And I’ll get your little pony, too.” “I am a warhorse, vile serpent!” Feld snapped. “Feld!” Falcon said. “We are not here to argue!” He mounted the warhorse and charged for Ssiassa. The dragoness reared up, spreading her wings, and fire poured from her jaws. Falcon raised his shield, which, crumpling, took most of the heat, and he threw it aside. Sending up a prayer to Aslan, he swung his sword with so much force that he fell back. Feld reared, and Falcon fell to the ground. The sword bit into the dragon’s neck, and the head of Ssiassa fell to the ground, acid oozing from her jaws. Falcon got to his feet and stared at the dead creature, not believing that he had killed Ssiassa. “Thank you, Aslan,” Falcon breathed. He looked up to see Feld kneeling before him. “What are you doing, Feld?” he asked. “Aslan said that only the true king of Archenland can slay the dragon and retrieve the Crowns,” he said. “You killed the dragon, Your Majesty. You are the king of Archenland, Lerian.” “Arise, Feld,” Falcon said. The black horse stood before the prince. “I am Falcon, the prince of Archenland, son of King Nain. When my father was wounded on the hunting trip when I was months old, Duke Relian tried to kill me. Sir Char, a knight loyal to my father, killed the duke, took me, and fled to save my life. I was raised by centaurs in the Western Wood.” “Your Highness-,” Feld said, starting to bow again, but Falcon stopped him. “Before you start on all the formality, Feld, we have to find the Crowns,” he said with a smile. Falcon cleaned his sword and they walked into the cave. The dragon’s lair was filled with gold, silver, and precious stones. In the center of the cave, on a large rock, sat the Four Crowns of the Four Kings and Queens of the Golden Age in all their royal splendor. On the far left sat the great golden crown of High King Peter the Magnificent, decorated with chestnut oak leaves; next came the golden coronet, adorned with daffodils and mountain ash leaves, of Queen Susan the Gentle. The third crown was the silver crown of King Edmund the Just, ornamented with dogwood leaves; and the last crown was the delicate silver circlet of Queen Lucy the Valiant, decorated with yarrow and laurel flowers. Falcon picked up the crown of the high king and held it up to a sunbeam. It glinted in the light, a majestic reminder of the Golden Age. He carefully placed it in one of Feld’s saddlebags, and put the other three crowns in the bag. He cut off a great fang of Ssissa, and one of the dragoness’ mirror-like scales, and placed it in another of Feld’s saddlebags. They spent the night in the cave, and the next morning, Falcon mounted Feld and they began the journey back to Cair Paravel. After a week, they came to the Isle of Cair Paravel, and began their victorious entry into the castle. The Narnians gathered around them, cheering for the future Archenlandian king. Falcon knelt before King Caspian of Narnia and presented the Four Crowns of the Four Kings and Queens of the Golden Age, and the dragon’s fang and scale, to the Narnian king. Caspian raised Falcon to his feet, saying, “Arise, Sir Lerian of Stormness Head, future king of Archenland.” “Your Majesty, forgive me, but I must explain something,” Falcon said. He told the Narnian court of his real name, parentage, and his life up to when he slew the dragoness Ssiassa. Caspian ordered that a retinue be prepared for Prince Falcon to have safe passage to Archenland. “Prince,” he said as they walked in the Great Courtyard of Cair Paravel, “if only you could have known your father, Nain. But we both know that Aslan’s ways are not ours. ‘He is not a tame Lion,’ as the saying goes.” “Thank you for all you have done, Your Majesty,” Falcon said with a bow. But Caspian raised him up. “We will be equals soon,” the Telmarine king said sadly. “I should have told you sooner. Nain is dying, and you do not have much time. You must hasten to Archenland, Falcon.” As the Archenlandian was about to set off for his homeland, Caspian said, “Promise me you will be good to Aryelle, Falcon. Though she is not right for me, she is a great lady. Treat her well.” “I promise, Your Majesty,” Falcon said. “Call me Caspian,” the king said with a smile. From then on, Falcon and Caspian were good friends, until Caspian’s death in 2356. When Falcon arrived in Archenland, he went to Anvard, for his father was too weak to greet him properly. Nain’s face lit up when Falcon entered his bedchamber. “My son,” the old king said in a quiet voice, for he was losing strength fast. “I do not have much time. I will join Aslan soon.” “Father-,” Falcon said quickly, his face ashen as he kneeled by Nain’s bed. “Falcon, I name you as my long-lost son and heir,” he said. “Marry Aryelle, and Caspian will crown you. Rule Archenland wisely, and do not fail me, your people, or Aslan.” “Father-,” “May Aslan bless you and keep you from all harm. May your wisdom grace Archenland until the seas run dry, the sun goes dark, and the stars fall from the night sky.” “Father, no! Don’t leave me,” the prince begged. “Do you solemnly promise and swear to govern Archenland according to the decrees, respective laws and customs? Will you put your people first before you and use your power to guide them and defend them from all harm? Will you be the first in every attack and last in every retreat?" "I will," Falcon whispered. "I name you His Majesty, Falcon, King of Archenland. May Aslan bless you," Nain said. The king closed his eyes and took his last breath. Aslan entered the room through the open door. Falcon looked at the Great Lion through eyes blurry with tears. “Aslan,” the newly-made king said, his voice thick with tears, “why did he have to die? Everything would have been different if he was still alive.” “My son,” Aslan said, a Tear more precious than all the riches in the world on either side of the Door falling from his golden eye, “no one is told any Story but their own. It is not your place to know what would have happened. But do not worry, for he is in My Country now. There is no pain, tears, or sorrow in My Country.” Aslan gave Falcon a Lion’s Kiss on his forehead and walked out the door. In a month’s time, Falcon married Aryelle, and Caspian crowned them king and queen. They ruled for fifty-three years. Falcon died in 2357, a year after King Caspian, and Aryelle died in 2358. They had two children, Princess Erisa and Prince Perining, who was the father of King Ganian, the father of King Sevian, the father of King Firian, the father of King Ilian, the father of Prince Dirian.